


Two Weeks

by heeroluva



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Caught, Consentacles, Eggpreg, Established Relationship, Extreme Insertions, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Mpreg, Oviposition, Porn with Feelings, Stomach Bulge, Tentacle Sex, Urethral Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-15 16:45:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18502978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: Thranduil is well and truly fucked, stuffed full of numerous tentacles, moaning in pleasure as Nendarik begins the slow process of filling him with eggs when a familiar voice cuts through the pleasurable fog he’s fallen into.





	Two Weeks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yodaisgreat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodaisgreat/gifts).



Thranduil is well and truly fucked, stuffed full of numerous tentacles, moaning in pleasure as Nendarik begins the slow process of filling him with eggs when a familiar voice cuts through the pleasurable fog he’s fallen into.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” Bard’s voice is heavy with amusement, a mischievous smile stretching across his face as he steps into Thranduil’s line of sight. There’s no mistaking the lust in his sometime lover’s eyes or the bulge in his pants as he moves closer, easily stepping along the slippery stones lining the shore.

Nendarik doesn’t react to Bard’s presence at all, though Thranduil knows he’s aware of him, just doesn’t view him as a threat, perhaps because Thranduil doesn’t. Even if Thranduil wanted to, he knows it’s clear to Bard that he has no means to answer, one thick tentacle slowly fucking his throat, pushing deep enough that it causes his throat to bulge and holding for several long moments, pumping out small bursts of fluid that aide in this process before it pulls back just enough to allow him to draw a deep breath, only to repeat the process ad infinitum.

“Oh please, don’t stop on stop my behalf,” Bard drawls with mirth, clearly enjoying the show, his inability to speak.

Thranduil imagines the wanton sight he paints, thick black tentacles wrapped around his limbs, holding him easily in the air, the majority of Nendarik’s massive bulk hidden beneath the dark water. Only the long length of his hair falls into the water beneath him, the silky strands floating. Two thin tentacles rhythmically tug at his reddened nipples, stretching them away from his body while others massage his pecs, and already he can feel his chest swelling, the pressure increasing, and knows that soon he’ll give milk.

A tentacle thicker than two of Thranduil’s fingers has managed to worm its way down his cock, stretching his urethra unimaginably wide. While there’d been some initial discomfort as Nendarik fucked his cock, readying him for what was to come, now Thranduil feels nothing but exquisite pleasure, moaning as each egg forces his cock to bulge obscenely as it moves deeper and deeper into his body before it finally settles heavily in his balls, joining the others that already fill his increasingly heavy scrotum.

It’s a strange sensation, being touched so intimately within, but after having gotten over the initial strangeness, it’s far from unpleasant. Another tentacle rises from the water and cradles the growing sac, gently massaging the soft reddening skin as it continues to bulge.

Thranduil’s ass had eagerly opened to Nendarik’s probing tentacles, and now he’s spread open by three of his tentacles, each thicker around than his wrist, each pulsing slightly as egg after egg finds a home inside of him. The normally tight muscled flatness of his stomach has given way to strange protruding curves, the bulk of the tentacles clearly visible through his stretched skin, but he knows that soon that will change as he’s filled with eggs and seed. His skin pulls taut as his stomach grows hugely.

A splash and a curse reminds Thranduil of his visitor, glancing once more at him, Bard clearly having slipped, one pants leg wet up to his groin. They’re moving suddenly, and Thranduil finds himself held unexpectedly close to the human king, groaning in disappointment as the tentacle is pulled from his throat.

Bard reaches out hesitantly, giving Thranduil times to protest, but Thranduil only dips his head in invitation, heart racing as he waits, having never been touched by another during these encounters. Once during one of Thranduil’s early meetings with Nendarik, one of his guards had interrupted them, and Nendarik had nearly killed him before Thranduil was able to convey to the creature that he wasn’t a threat. It was a good decade after before he’d been able to look at Thranduil again without blushing and looking away.

Bards calloused fingers slides over the twisting bulges of his stomach, softly at first, then with more confidence when Thranduil moans, arching closer to the touch. “How is this possible?” Bard asks. “What manner of creature is this?”

Thranduil’s voice is uncharacteristically rough as he asks his own question instead of answering. “Are you not jealous that I find pleasure in another?” Nendarik shifts abruptly, and Thranduil yelps as the tentacles shift within him, driving deeper for a moment before they return to their previous condition.

Bard’s face holds an unfamiliar softness, a strange smile twisting his mouth as he reaches out to gently cup Thranduil’s cheek, leaning forward carefully to presses a kiss against his slack mouth. He licks his lips as he pulls away, his eyes dilating as he tastes the sweetness of the fluid that Nendarik fed him. “I am but a Man, Dragonslayer, King of Dale, I may be, but for all of it, I am but mortal, and you, you are not.”

“Bard—”

Brushing his lips against Thranduil’s again, Bard says, “I will grow old, and die, and you will continue living long past the days my bones crumbles and turn to dust.”

Blood racing through his ears, Thranduil blinks rapidly, the very thought of it making his heart heavy. He’s known from the very first time that he invited the human into his bed that this would end in his heartbreak, but it was not a choice he’d made lightly, drawn to the man’s compassion and fire, his unwavering loyalty and drive.

“The other races call Men greedy, and I’ve proven them correct. I would have you anyway I can, for an hour, a day, a week, for an entire lifetime. But I cannot ask for your fidelity, would not bind you to me, would not lead to your downfall, pray to any who will listen that you will not fade when I am gone. I should never have let this go so long, yet once I had you, it was never enough. One more time, I’d tell myself again and again, yet I cannot stay away, can never turn you away.”

Thranduil can’t help but laugh softly because if ever there was a more ill-suited location for a conversation such as this, his cock and balls throbbing with release that he knows is a long way off, eggs still steadily causing his stomach to swell, he cannot think of one.

A flash of hurt crosses Bard’s face as he says, “I fail to see—”

“Peace, I am not laughing at you, merely the timing.” Thranduil’s eyes drift down to where Bard’s hand still rests on his belly, his cock now barely visible past the bulge of it. “You did not ask for my fidelity, but you’ve had it since the day I took you to my bed. You are the first I’ve lain with since the death of my wife.”

Bards eyes widen in shock as he breathes out, “Thrandruil—”

“No, now is my turn to talk. The pull towards pleasures of the flesh so prominent in mortal races is felt much less acutely by Elves. Even less so the older we get, and I am far from a young elf. Perhaps you will take my words as false if I tell you that I’ve done this with Nendarik each spring for nearly three hundred years.”

“Sharp may be your words at times, I’ve never known you to speak false. Tell me your story.”

Thrandruil groans as three eggs push into him at once, wedged against his prostate for a moment before they finally sink deeper, and he begins to speak, his voice unsteady. “Nearly three hundred years past, I sensed a power unlike any I’ve felt before. It was not dark exactly, but far from pure. I set out with a group of our best hunters, and we found this creature here, the spring thaw having raised the waters enough for it to travel here, but when the water levels dropped suddenly, it found itself trapped. We startled it, and it attacked, and we defended ourselves. However, I sensed that it didn’t mean us any true harm, that it was merely scared and confused, so I sent my hunters away.”

“For a week, I sat with it, speaking softly, until it extended one of its many tentacles, this one tipped with tiny filaments, thinner each than a hair. It moved toward my ear, and I was hesitant, and perhaps a little stupid because I felt no threat from it, allowed it access.”

“They pressed into my ear, and I could feel them weaving themselves through my brain. While not painful, it was not the most comfortable of sensations. I’m uncertain how much time passed. It could have been seconds or days, but when he pulled away, I knew a great deal more about him and his kind though no words were exchanged. Even now I understand him, and he understand me though he does not think or communicate like you or I.”

“He’d only just reached maturity, had set out to seek a territory of his own and to reproduce.”

Bard laughs softly. “Clearly he’s succeeded.”

Thranduil laughs as well. “Yes, though I was hesitant at first. He has no name for his kind or himself, so I gave him one, deeming him Nendarik. His kind have no real gender, they merely need a host.” Thranduil stops with a gasp, the tentacle that’s shoved down his cock oh so slowly pulling out, and he can’t help but tremble. He hisses, jerking when Bard’s fingers curl around his suddenly oh so sensitive cock, the urethra still gaping slightly before another tentacle this one even bigger than the previous one slips inside, spreading his flesh until it finally settles as deeply as the previous one and adds to his already swollen testicles.

Forcing himself to continue, Thranduil says, “He’s not a dark creature, but his kind feeds on darkness, cleansing the waters and surrounding areas. Unwilling hosts result in dark offspring that die quickly and pollute the waters. As my peoples’ reaction showed, finding a willing host is a difficult. Still uncertain, I would not subject my people to a potential danger, so offered myself.”

“I thought I’d understood what I was getting into, but I found myself woefully unprepared as my body was filled and stretched beyond my wildest dreams, as I was bombarded by pleasure the likes of which I’d never experienced, as he filled me and touched me in places I never thought could be reached. I produced milk, and for two weeks they incubated in me before I felt the pull towards darkness, and made my way to the Enchanted River.”

“The eggs had dissolved during that time, and it was with horrified amazement that the small creatures flowed out of me, crawling up my body for a quick drink before they fell away and disappearing into the dark water immediately. And it was finally when the last of them left me that the orgasm that I’d desperately needed for two long weeks hit me.”

Bard’s hands caress Thranduil’s stomach, “You must have been huge.”

Sighing softly at the touch, Thranduil nods his agreement, “At the time, I thought so yes, but each year I grow bigger, my clutch is larger. These last few years, I’ve been unable to walk myself there, the weight of my stomach and balls so great.”

Bard groans suddenly, growing flushed, and steps back. “May I?” he asks, tugging at his coat.

Thranduil smiles. “Please do.”

“Have you seen the creatures you’ve birthed since?” Bard asks as he strips, folding his clothes and setting them aside on a rocky outcrop.

“These waters are filled with them, and I’m greeted by dozens each time I swim. Each year when I give birth the waters churn with them. The oldest of them is only as big as my head, but a swarm of them can easily take down a spider or an orc.”

Bard laughs softly, pressing his hard cock against Thranduil’s side. “The Elven King of Mirkwood, with his own personal army of tentacle beasts.”

Nendarik moves suddenly, reading Thranduil’s desire, changing his hold on him, to let his arms free, allowing Thranduil to reach out, to wrap his hand around Bard’s cock.

“I did not mean to deceive you, yet this was not a subject I ever knew how to broach.”

Bard sighs, rocking his hips as Thranduil strokes him. “I’m not certain I would have understood, had I not seen this myself. Perhaps—” Bard breaks off abruptly when a tentacle different from the other suddenly rises from the water in front of his face, clearly tipped with the same fine threads that Thranduil had just described. “Thranduil?”

“He feels my affection and is offering to let you join us. You don’t need to say yes.”

Bard’s eyes are wide as he looks between Thranduil and it before he turns his head, and softly breathes out, “Yes.”

Thranduil watches as they sink into Bard’s ear, the way he groans, his cock twitching in Thranduil’s hand, the way it suddenly jerks then spurts, the way his eyes roll back in head and he pitches forward, only to be caught easily by a waiting Nendarik and pressed against Thranduil’s side.

Thranduil laughs softly, the sound turning into a moan as Bard is maneuvered to lay more fully on him, pressing heavily on his bulging stomach. Bard’s eyes flutter moments later, and he looks confused for a moment, before he smiles at Thranduil, pressing a kiss against his lips, a kiss that turns into a moan as Nendarik wastes no time in preparing his new host, a slick tentacle pressing against the tightly puckered hole of Bard’s ass.

Another tentacle appears before Bard, pressing into his slightly open mouth, and Thranduil wraps his arms around him as it sinks in deep enough that he gags. Already though he can feel the sweet fluid doing its job as Bard slowly goes boneless against him. Pressing a kiss to Bard’s brow, he whispers a soft,” Thank you,” as he lets himself go to the pleasure again, memorizing the emotions that flicker across Bard’s face, the amazement, the growing pleasure.

Out of the many ways Thranduil had wondered how this revelations would go over with Bard, never once had he considered that Bard would join him, that he would be well and truly fucked, stuffed full of numerous tentacles, moaning in pleasure as Nendarik prepared him for what’s to come. The next two weeks are certainly going to be interesting.


End file.
